


Musings from a Forgotten Time

by thatisbaffling



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: AHWM, Alternate Universe, Angst, Break Up, Childhood Friends, Different AUs, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Engagement, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, Nightmares, Romance, Ship Teasing, Short One Shot, Some Humor, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, WKM, some shitposting lol, wrote these over the course of 7 months
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25380886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatisbaffling/pseuds/thatisbaffling
Summary: i've written a whole load of short stories/drabbles for my partner since about november so i'd share a few that aren't too personal. i'll probably add more as i write them but these are the ones i have rn lolnot all of these exist in the same universe and a lot are just our headcanons for the characters or just me having fun with character building and development! some of them are based off songs or quotes from tv shows etci'll try to do a little summary at the beginning of each chapter ig lol
Relationships: Abe | The Detective/Mark Fischbach, Abe | The Detective/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Celine | The Seer/Mark Fischbach, Damien | The Mayor (Who Killed Markiplier?) & Mark Fischbach, Damien | The Mayor/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Illinois/Yancy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Rock me

**Author's Note:**

> first one lol - i didn't know which one to start with so i thought this softer, shorter one would do! i actually wrote this in the middle of a Really Long plane journey back in february so excuse the poor quality haha
> 
> we usually go with the idea that will always liked damien slightly more than friends (which mark hated) and damien was always torn between will and mark (in the end he found himself completely devoted to mark much to will's sadness). this is a common theme throughout these drabbles lmao

Damien had been stressed - work was hard and campaigns meant a heavy workload and massive blows to his self esteem. So they had their party nights, their no work nights, their just those three nights. And Damien hadn't been doing much except rest his head against Mark's shoulder and sometimes hum to various songs that played loudly. Once they had finished their drinks one round, Mark got up to get some more.

Rock me. ..not one of Mark's favourites.. ABBA in general.. much more down Will's street and therefore his path was very, very far from /that/. The music was loud and once you were out of the living room you couldn't hear anything from inside the room. So he didn't hear Will take Damien's hand and spin him onto their make-shift dance floor. The low lights lit up Will's eyes and made them sparkle blue. 

Mark stood, leaning against the door frame, sipping his blood-red drink in one hand and feeling the ice from Damien's drip down his fingers in the other. Their fingers were interlocked, laced together in their gentle, harmless dance, swaying back and forth. Will was good at lightening the mood. Will was good at that. So he sung along and Mark watched as Damien followed his lips and drunk in every feature while he stood at the door frame. But he saw him grin and giggle as he spun and dipped and held Will's hand. He took another drink.


	2. Ah, that's better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in our headcanon abe has to work on the case of the rogue android google "IRL". this is one of their interactions a bit later on in their relationship

The street was dark, a charcoal smudge on the face of the bright city. He stalked down the pavement, hands shoved firmly in the pockets of his now waterlogged trench coat, collar flat against the back of his neck. His face had contorted a number of minutes before into a stern grimace against the daggers of the bitter wind. Moving his keys across his fingertips in his pocket, his mind drifted to his warm house just a few blocks away now. If the weather hadn’t been so disgustingly deceiving that morning he wouldn’t be in the situation he was at that moment and he heard himself curse the news reporter on the radio under his breath. He watched it form a delicate, pale cloud of mist in front of him for a second before he stormed through it, eyes firmly fixed on the pavement in front of him. 

It was odd, he thought, finally reaching his doorstep and yanking his keys out of his stuffy pocket into the cool numbness of the evening air, how he’d never been a home sweet home person until his life felt like it depended on it. However, he also hadn’t lived with anyone before and the thought of coming back to someone waiting was surprisingly comforting. He hauled himself through the door, kicking off his shoes on the mat as he did so. While pulling off his soaking coat, he realised how cold he suddenly was; his body had become numb to the threatening chill outside, but as soon as he was thrown into the sound warmth of his house it hit him. He shivered, flinging his coat onto the rack and rubbing his damp palms together. He shut his eyes. 

“Hello detective,” a firm, direct, logical voice sounded. Abe opened one of his eyes and smirked to himself. Google stood in the doorway between his stairs and living room, clearly giving a quick scan of his vitals up and down. “You’re back late.” he somehow appeared offended by this, or at least saddened. Abe brushed it off, even though the android was getting familiar with human emotions he hadn’t become fully versatile with them all yet.   
“Yeah,” he sniffed involuntarily and moved his cold fingers to apparently his even colder nose. “Things overran-”  
“I told you to take the car,” Abe opened his mouth to retort, but with the drained energy he was running on, he decided against it. Google frowned as Abe pushed past him and sprawled out on the sofa. He felt a headache slowly forming at his temples and sighed. “You’re very run down.” he stated, matter-of-factly. Again, he moved to respond but no words left his lips. Instead, he let his eyes gradually close. 

Abe didn’t remember much of how he got upstairs or how his drenched shirt and trousers were now neatly folded in the laundry basket, but it was too late and he was too tired to question anything at that point. He felt a gentle warmth radiating around him and glanced up to see Google, eyes shut, glasses off, with his arms wrapped around him. 

Maybe he was learning more human traits than he thought, and maybe that should be something he should report to higher authority, but the how, why and when of it all seemed too.. private to be on a legal document. Instead, he closed his eyes: he didn’t have to wake up yet.


	3. Celine, wait-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> celine & damien take a trip down memory lane as they leave their childhood home for the last time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will gave me the challenge of writing something based on damien's quote "Celine, wait" which we kept saying to each other as a joke so... here's something more serious than i thought it was going to be hah

They sat on the first step of the sturdy, oak staircase and gazed across at their now boxed and packaged-up home. Celine hadn’t really succumbed to the emotional distress of leaving their childhood home behind yet, but now, as the siblings sat in nostalgic silence, Damien felt her hand rest gently on top of his. A small smile turned the corners of his lips up. She sighed deeply, exhaling a mist of hurt, hope and heartache. 

“So this is it?” she turned to him, moving her free hand to wipe the tears threatening to fall from her brother’s eyes.   
“Yeah,” he spoke, finally, inhaling a shaky breath. “It’s weird that this is the last time we’re going to see this place..” they had built everything here: sleepovers until 5am, parties only the four of them were invited to, pillow forts, hot chocolate after snow days, first time drinking, his first kiss. Now someone else would have it.  
Celine nodded, casting her eyes back across the open plan of the home. “Le réveillon is going to be weird,” the word ‘weird’ seemed to be the only one to describe either their mixed, heart wrenching feelings about the day, the only one to fully capture the odd mood that had settled upon them both, so.. weird it was.   
“You’re weird-” Damien smirked, a lake of laughter finally seeping through the veil. Celine turned to him again, mouth pressed into a I’m-clearly-not-finding-any-of-this-funny-you-idiot line. ..he knew that one all too well.  
“Wow, real mature Damien!” both of her eyebrows raised, a desperate attempt to not burst out laughing that second. “Coming from the biggest weirdo ever-”

And suddenly they were lost in an ocean of wistful tears and childhood laughter. When it all came down to it, they weren’t really losing their home, just the house.


	4. Arguments of Mark & Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of every time Mark & Will have fought in my writing (separated by "***")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how many of these are out of context so i'm sorry, but most of these are based on quotes from tv shows or books lol

Mark sighed, leaning back on the sofa, and glanced across at Will. “He doesn’t do gifts.” Will stared at him for a moment before turning his attention on Abe; he could feel Mark’s smug eyes fixed on his back.   
“What because you’re so evolved you don’t need material things?” he mocked, watching Abe’s face remain decisively nonchalant.   
“No,” the detective folded his arms. “Because I don't like brown-nosing.”

***

“Hey, Mark, you like jokes!” Will beamed, slight malice behind his eyes. Mark glanced at him for a moment to scowl, then back down at the turkey. “I’d love to be your partner, if you usually take as long as you do to cut the turkey!” Damien snickered and Mark shot him a look.  
“Riddle me this, Will,” he spat. “Who sucks at carving turkey and thinks their jokes are good when they’re bad?!” a low hum of silence spread across the dining table.

***

“Oh and you..” Will looked pointedly at the suspiciously-turkey-like plate with silver foil over it in Mark’s hand. “Brought another turkey..?”  
“Sure did,” Damien twitched slightly, a grin plastered onto his face. “Even though I told him that you were making the turkey, and all he needed to bring was stuffing.” Will began to nod slowly.  
Mark chuckled. “The stuffing’s inside it,” he stretched out a smile. “And now we have two turkeys, just in case.” Damien ran a hand through his hair, deliberately looking anywhere but the conversation happening right next to him. Will frowned slightly.  
“In case of what?” he urged.  
Damien rubbed both their arms with his hand once. “I don't know,” he laughed, awkwardly. “Anyway, it was in the car when he picked me up. Isn't that fun?” he stage whispered.  
A smile began to form again on Will’s face; his eyes didn’t move from Mark’s. “The most fun.”

***

“Bullshit-” Will finally exclaimed. Loudly. Mark had been going off on one about this for what felt like centuries to him acting as if he knew everything in the fucking world, but, wow, what he didn’t seem to know is that… NO ONE CARED! NO ONE!   
Mark frowned deeply at both the interruption and the choice of wording. “It’s not bullshit. I heard it.” he stated, firmly.   
Will scoffed. “Oh yeah? Where’d ya hear it?” Damien sighed.  
“My agent?” he answered, clearly disgusted that he even had to justify himself.  
“Oh Jesus..” Will had a very loud laugh when he wanted.  
“Well I did!”  
Damien didn’t really want to get involved, besides, the drive was almost over: they just had to get through these last twenty minutes. ..these last ten fucking years more like. He saw his fingers tighten around the steering wheel, not daring to make eye contact with either of the two others in the car.  
“How would you know anyway?” Mark continued, now turning fully to face Will in the back. “You’ve never even met any actor other than me-”  
“Well thank fuck for that if they’re all like you!”  
Mark sneered. “She didn’t have to go through any of the shit I had to go through.”  
“Well good for her-”  
Will folded his arms. “Like Celine would tell you anyway.”  
“Oh yeah? She would,” he retorted, suddenly adopting an even more defensive stance. “We don’t keep secrets.”  
Will gave him a very stretched smile and nodded knowingly. “Yeah? You’re such a sensitive-”  
Damien had had enough. It was getting too much and it had only been two of the twenty minutes. He inhaled deeply before speaking. “Do you talk about books and issues?” he asked, desperately trying to direct them back to their original conversation.   
“Thank you for asking, Damien,” Mark made sure to look Will dead in the eyes when he started speaking. “Yes. As a matter of fact we do. Celine’s favorite book just happens to be Walden by Henry David Thoreau. And Celine just happened to say that the transcendental movement is a close parallel to this day and age.”  
“Oooh!” Will gasped dramatically. “Big words!” Mark could roll his eyes better than anyone else.

***

“It’s nothing serious,” Mark raised his eyebrows, a smirk playing at his lips. His two friends continued to stare at him in disbelief. “Celine and I are.. Casual lovers-”  
“Ew-” Damien sneered.  
“Yuck-” Will stuck out his tongue in disgust.

***

“Look, you’ve tried both cakes and you know mine’s better-”  
“Not true-” Damien began, with less conviction than he had intended.  
“But you’re scared to tell Mark because you’re into him.” Will sat back and folded his arms.  
Damien’s eyes widen. “What? That is not true. Okay-” he scoffed. “I don't even like food!”  
Will tilted his head to one side. “What?”  
“Who’s Mark!”

***

“Okay, guys, come on, you promised,” Damien leant forward on the arm of the chair, trying to make eye contact with either one of his best friends. “Can’t we just hang out and try to have fun?” Both of their faces were blank. “I mean, we’re all together, isn’t that what it’s all about?” There was a long and dull silence, before Mark pulled out his phone. “If I get the next train, I’ll be home by eleven!”

***

“I call slut!” Will exclaimed, slamming his glass down on the counter. Mark looked shocked as Damien snickered. “I do, I call slut. Mark just slept with him because he was naked.”  
“I did not!” Mark folded his arms. “I did it because I.. we have a connection,” Will rolled his eyes, daring him to continue. “A really.. connection..y one,” he felt his cheeks flush pink. “And it is full of special... connection!” 

***

"What a heart wrenching story," Mark sauntered in, unapologetically, in his satin sleeping robe and silk cravat. "So brave of you to tell it." Will glared at him. Yancy raised an eyebrow.  
"Woah, woah," he frowned. "Is that what you sleep in?"  
"Of course," he looked almost offended. "What else do you think I sleep in?"  
Illinois smirked. "A coffin."  
"Mark," Yancy bit his lip. "That doesn't comfortable at all-" he gave him another up down. "And with the silk around your neck?"  
"First of all," he put his hands on his hips indignantly. "It's a sleeping cravat," Damien rolled his eyes unbeknownst to Mark and Will yawned. Yancy became nervous. "Secondly, it's not about comfort. It's about looking good. All the time-"  
"Amen to that, brother." Will shook his head solemnly while Damien stifled a giggle. Mark shot them both an unforgiving glare.

***

"Yeah well you two always kept your toothbrushes in the bedroom," Will looked pointedly at them. "Super weird."   
Damien frowned. "Marky did, I didn't-"  
Mark turned to look at him and Will opened his mouth to say before Mark cut him off. "No, I kept mine in the bathroom."  
Will shook his head. "No! There was only one toothbrush in the bathroom and it was mine." They all froze a wave of discomfort contorting their faces. Illinois smirked, slowly.   
"Wait," he shut his eyes. "Are you saying," Yancy looked at him questioningly. "That for eight years.." Mark looked horrified. "You all used the same toothbrush?"

***


	5. First kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> will knows abe has a crush on him, while celine has his own heart in her hand. they have a quiet talk

Will could feel Abe’s eyes still resting on him. It wasn’t harsh or sharp. It didn’t hurt. He was just staring at him, his eyes had melted into his face; they were beyond this dimension now, just the two of them. Abe liked the quiet - Will assumed it was the peace of it all or maybe being alone with his own thoughts. He didn’t like that. They remained in rest for a moment before Will flicked his eyes back to meet Abe’s and parted his lips. 

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” it was odd: his words didn’t seem to break the silence, not even the gentle hum of his voice. They just floated. Abe shook his head once. Will felt the corners of his mouth fall down. It wasn’t often he was like this, Will had got him to let his guard down and he wasn’t planning on making him build it back up again. Not with him. Not tonight.

He took a breath in and began to speak again. “I know that you know I like Celine,” Abe glanced down; he had to make this part quick or he wouldn’t have a chance again. “And I know you told me not to think of you in that way and I know we can’t be together like that-” he felt his own shoulders tense and turned his attention to the plain bed covers he really should change soon. The creases in them from both their weight made patterns he hadn’t seen before or, at least, hadn’t bothered to see. “But I want us to forget all of those things for a minute.. okay?”  
Abe was quiet. Abe was always quiet, a pensive state of intrigue and questioning. But it wasn’t that this time. Will moved his gaze to rest on his face. “Okay.” he spoke softly after a while of warm silence.   
“I want to make sure that the first person you kiss loves you. Okay?”  
“Okay.” he said again, tone gentle, not tentative. He was certain.. just quiet. 

It was silent again for another while, indefinitely. And then he kissed him. And it was the kind of kiss you couldn’t tell anyone about because it was indescribable or the feeling was new to the world and no one else would ever feel like that ever. And they’d both never been more happy.


	6. Shorter Damien & Mark drabbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a collection of my shorter mark/damien writing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> each different piece is separated with "***"

“You okay, Dames?” Damien moved to bury his face deeper in the nape of Mark’s neck. Neither of them had woken up very long ago and maybe that was the problem - he was usually up by now. It was weird.   
He nodded, stretching his mouth into a contorted line against Mark’s skin. “Yeah I just didn’t sleep very well.” Mark moved then to rub his hand along his arm and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.   
“Nightmare?” he murmured, half expecting Damien not to answer this time, as getting him to speak at all in the morning was a feat (a feat only he could do). Whatever it was, it was over now and he just had to get through the rest of the day and forget about it.   
“Not..” he began, then trailed himself off, lacing his fingers in Mark’s. “I don’t know, I just feel weird. I can’t.. everything was just uncomfortable, even when I woke up earlier..” Mark stayed silent, letting Damien focus on the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his hand. “I don’t like it.” he finally finished, muttering. 

Mark waited then, gently stroking his side and caressing the back of his hand with his thumb, until he could feel Damien’s breath even itself out and he was asleep again. Actually this time. 

***

“Okay, Damien’s turn!”  
Damien chuckled, pulling one knee up to his chin. “I just am thankful to have someone in my life who gives me a reason to get out of bed every morning,” his eyes rested on the floor in front of him, deliberately avoiding any inquizitive glances. “And I hope that my relationship with this person will only grow... more intimate.” A low murmur of laughter ripple across the floor; Damien attempted to huff out a giggle, he already regretted even opening his mouth. Will leant forward, trying to make any eye contact at all with him.  
“So..” he sung. “Who are you talking about?”  
Damien went red - a sense of panic filled his mind. “Uhh-” his eyes darted around the room rapidly trying to focus on anyone other than Mark. “You.” he blurted.  
Will blinked. Mark raised an eyebrow. “Him?!”

***  
“Did you need something?” Damien’s voice always seemed softer on the phone, even when he was at work. Mark froze and glanced at Celine.   
She smiled. “Just ask him out somewhere.” Mark nodded.  
“I was just wondering if…” his feet were stuck to the ground, his lungs filling up with tar, he could hear his blood pounding in his ears. He couldn’t do this. “Nothing - got to go - bye!” The tone was loud and steady until Mark shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Haha!”  
Celine raised an eyebrow. “What-”  
“It was a joke,” he started, unnervingly loud. “I’m not really in love with Damien-” He pointed his finger dramatically in her face. “You should have seen the look on your face!”

***

“But these are cute - I love these!” Damien pleaded, grinning at his lit-up phone screen.  
“No-” Mark instinctively responded, eyes not being torn away from his editing for a second. “They’re stupid and I don’t want them circling. Ever.” He heard his boyfriend huff out a sigh of resignation and felt a glowing pride in his chest for a well-fought and well-won battle. He was satisfied, grateful even that the conversation had now come to a close, but of course he had spoken (or thought even) too soon. Damien leant against his shoulder, phone deliberately put in the hand Mark couldn’t reach, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.   
“Well as long as I get to keep them I’m okay,” he whispered, pressing his cheek against his boyfriend’s. Mark rolled his eyes, purposefully stifling a smile from the sudden and secretly welcomed affection.   
“Yeah, well,” he shook his head, finally glancing up to look at him, and rested an arm around his waist. “You know you can have any photo you want of me right?”  
“Yeah,” Damien smirked.  
“So you chose those ones because…?”   
He beamed again and planted a kiss on the top of his curly mass of hair. “You’re always so cute and surprised in your bloopers!”  
“Hey fuck you-”

***

“Where’s everyone else?” Mark looked around, as Abe pulled him back by the arm.  
“Yeah, they’re not coming-”  
He was startled. “Why?”  
“Because they don’t love Damien and neither do I,” Abe looked smug and Mark was about to protest when he continued to speak. “I mean he’s great and sweet,” his eyes drifted to the rest of the restaurant. “I’m not going to pretend I haven’t noticed his body-” Mark frowned. “But this is off topic. Good luck.”

***

“Listen, Dames,” Mark leant forward across the table. “If you murder me and bury me anywhere near Will, I swear I will haunt you forever.” Damien smirked, a nudged Will gently.   
“And what if I murder you and bury you across the globe?”  
Mark shrugged. “Eh, I’m sure you had your reasons.”

***

“Come on, Dames, they’re just jokes.” Mark smiled; it was an oddly warm and slightly too wide smile which made Damien unnerved. “Can’t a guy joke about banging his friend’s sister? I’m never going to act on it-”  
“Look,” Damien frowned. “I love my sister and,” he pulled on the skin around his lips with his teeth. “It’s my job to protect her from people like you!”  
Mark looked offended but surprisingly not shocked. “You don’t trust me?”  
“No,” he folded his arms. “And I don’t trust her either.”

***


	7. For the last time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's 4am on damien & mark's wedding day. damien and will sit on the beach in their clothes from the day before and think about the future

Will lay, head in Damien's lap, weary eyes resting on the pale pink hues of the sunrise. They hadn't done this in a while, but watching the dawn of a new day usually filled him with such a sense of warmth. Drawing small patterns in the sand by running his fingertips lightly over the surface, he mapped out his own thoughts in an array of wiggly lines. He felt Damien notice, lean down to look closer and huff out a small laugh from his nose, then direct his attention back to the natural light show. It left a wash of familiarity in oranges and pinks against their skin. 

He wasn't one to get overly emotional, that was always Damien's job, but gazing upon the final stretch of the rising sun, he felt the backs of his eyes prickle with tears. This day marked the beginning of a new era and he'd watched it begin with his love for the last time. Sitting himself up next to him, he folded his legs so he could lean his chin on his knees. Damien rested his head against his shoulder. And they were quiet, for a moment.  
"You're getting married today." Will spoke, voice hushed and low.   
"I know," he whispered back. They were still again, eyes fixing on the sun painted in oils in front of them. Will felt him take his hand in his gently. "This won't change anything." He continued, squeezing his hand for a moment.

Will pressed his eyes shut for the first time that night and felt the morning breeze in his hair and white sand against the soles of his feet. "I know."


	8. Illinois & Yancy drabbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a collection of my silly yancy/illinois drabbles (most r v short!!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> each are separated by "***"

“Alright, where’s the barn?” Yancy grinned, whipping around to look at Illinois again.  
“What’s your fascination with barns?” he chuckled lightly, guiding him to continue further. Yancy glanced around again at the barren wheat field.   
“It's where all the awesome standoffs happen!” He pressed the side of his arm against Illinois’, but seemed to continue to search for this barn. “Ya know, rusty farm equipment, light shining through bullet holes-” a murder of crows took off from the soil in front of them. Yancy gasped, tugging on his arm. “And I'll bet you at least one dove takes flight in slow mo!”  
Illinois bit his lip, shooting him a quick side eye before turning his attention back to the field ahead of them. “I will take that bet,” he felt Yancy fist bump the air. “Because that's impossible.” he murmured.

***

“Hey,” Illinois glanced up at Yancy, leaning in round the doorframe. “So I ran after you last night but I lost you in the subway..” he trailed off, noting Illinois’ confused expression.  
“I.. took a cab home?”  
“Really?” Yancy tugged at his lip with his teeth. “Well, then,” he scratched the back of his head. “I definitely terrified some random guy.”

***

“Who wants to hear a joke?” Yancy grinned, searching around the living room for eager faces.  
“You mean like a riddle?” Illinois smirked, finally taking his eyes off the text he’d been studying all day. “‘Cause I love riddles.”  
Yancy paused, uncertain. “No.. I mean like a joke-joke..” Illinois raised an eyebrow. “You know, where I say it and you laugh?”  
He exhaled for a moment, then looked back up at him. “Then no I’m not interested.”

***

“Hey, you’re gonna have to stop sleeping with everything that moves if you want to be Yancy’s boyfriend.”  
Illinois frowned at the suggestion. “Boyfriend? Hey now,” he let out a nervous chuckle. “Who said anything about being Yancy’s boyfriend?”  
Mark crossed his arms. “You said you were in love with him?” He watched Illinois shrug and laughed. “What do you want then?”  
“I don’t know,” he tapped his foot on the floor in front of them. “I just want to be with him. All the time.” He pushed himself up from the sofa and began to pace. Mark’s eyes followed him across the room. “I want to hear about his day, hold his hand, smell his hair, make him laugh-” he cut himself off with a snort and a sneer. “But I don’t want to be his stupid boyfriend.”

***

“Look, I don’t do the whole fight scene,” Mark continued, swirling Damien’s drink around in its glass to seem sophisticated. “It’s juvenile.” Damien nodded.  
“No,” Yancy scoffed. “There are plenty of legitimate reasons to fight!”  
“Oh I forgot,” Mark smirked at Illinois. “He thinks fighting is sexy.”  
“I do not!” His voice rose for a moment before he dropped it back down again. “I just come from a place where if a guy can throw down it’s somewhat... way hot-” Mark sneered. “And scars?” Yancy’s gaze drifted off into a haze. “If a guy’s got a scar, the guy’s got a Yancy.”

***

"I agree," Damien smiled. "It's rare that two people meet and fall madly in love. Like," he squeezed Mark's hand gently. "Illinois and Yancy." Yancy rolled his eyes.  
"Oh come on," he glowered. "It's not even like going out for dinner - it's just hanging out at his place!" Mark smirked maliciously at him and Damien raised his eyebrows. "No!" Yancy continued. "It's not like that, it's just us," then he lowered his voice. "And a bunch of other people." Mark frowned, confused.   
"Wait, Yancy, what exactly did Illinois say when he asked you out?"

[Illinois turned to him, wiping the sweat off his forehead, "Hey Yance," Yancy looked at him immediately. "I'm having some friends over my place for a little party," he clapped him on the shoulder once. "Wanna come?"]

Damien grimaced. "Yancy," he inhaled deeply. "Illinois didn't ask you out."  
Yancy scoffed. "Uh, of course he did?"  
Mark shook his head once. "No he didn't."  
Yancy's face contorted into an angry glare. "He did! He did!" They didn't seem convinced. "HE DID!"  
Damien shushed him quickly, then shared a glance with Mark. "Hey Yancy," his voice was softer. "Did you want Illinois to ask you out?"  
Yancy looked horrified. "WHAT?!" he squeaked. "No! I hate Illinois-" he looked around frantically. "I can't stop thinking about how much I hate him!!" Mark laughed which made Yancy snarl. "I want to attack him and- and rip his stupid clothes off-" Damien opened his mouth to say something but Mark stopped him. "And hit his ass with those stupid paddles and-" he caught the look on both of their faces and flushed red. "SHUT UP!!"


	9. Étrange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mark thinks back to when damien lost his mum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: DEATH MENTIONED THROUGHOUT

Mark remembered vividly where he was, what they were doing, what he was thinking when they first got the news; he was almost certain Will did too, but he’d never found the desire, or perhaps even the courage, to ask. Damien didn’t. The days flew by in a blur and all melted into one and he wouldn’t blame him if he got the starts and the ends all mixed up. But he knew which film they were watching.

Damien and Celine had just turned eighteen - three days before - which meant he was nearly eighteen too and Will was.. getting there, but that was beside the point. It was just him, Will and his boyfriend with shitty movie taste picking the movie for movie night. You would think, growing up with a child-actor as your best friend and later boyfriend, you would have the perfectly balanced movie taste any one would desire.. but, alas, Mark had to suffer. It was a romcom, a stupid budget movie from the early 90s and they all agreed not to let him choose the movie for movie night ever again. Not that they really had an established movie night again after that one. 

They were mocking it, Mark mainly scoffing at the poor acting and casting choices, but they all could look down upon and laugh at the poor comedic aspects and romantic timings.. sometimes he wondered if that was why Damien loved watching these dumb films with them. He remembered the scene it happened in, Will was doing some stupid impression of the protagonist confessing their love and they were all pissing themselves with laughter over the ridiculousness of the entire situation- then they heard the phone ring. It was Damien’s and Mark remembered Will’s playful eyeroll and his own disappointed glance at Damien because if it was another annoying work call pleading him to do extra then he would answer himself and tell them exactly what he thought. But it wasn’t. And he watched his boyfriend lean over Will and give the screen an odd reaction before muttering something about his dad and putting the phone to his ear. 

This was the bit Mark assumed got foggy in Damien’s mind, but every second remained crystal clear in both his and Will’s. They both loved his mum like a second mother as she adored and doted on them both like sons. It hit all of them hard when they found out she was gone. It was sudden, like a wave crashing against a chalky cliff face during a torrential storm. 

Television did that annoying thing of playing the same films over and over again in a select period of time and while it frustrated him when he finally had some time to critique his peers, he didn’t realise how much he wanted to throttle every TV producer, every programme planner, over this tiny fact of life until he saw Damien’s eyes glass over a few weeks after upon seeing the stupid film title. So he remembered holding him as he sobbed opposite the blank TV screen and squeezed his hand tightly whenever they saw an advert on a bus or poster in the subway. 

Mark remembered that film more vividly than any other he’d only seen once and he knew Will did too. The sequel came out a few years after and they both held their breath and stole quick, sideways glances at Damien as it got loudly promoted on the screen in front of them. Damien had closed his eyes and let his mouth form a bittersweet smile. 

“It’s strange,” he whispered. And, for once, the both of them agreed.


	10. I don't know!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> celine finally voices her concerns about damien and mark's relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually rly dumb bc the dialogue is taken from a text convo me and will had about mark and it sounded way more serious than it actually was lmao

“I don’t know why you put yourself through this, Damien, I really don’t-” Celine didn’t get angry often.. especially not at him, never at him. Only if he made stupid decisions that would get him hurt, which he didn’t do very often but now- “It’s not fair on you? You’re not being fair to yourself-”  
“I don’t know what you want me to do about it Celine!” Damien didn’t get angry very often.. especially not at her. Never. At her. But he was already emotional and he had been for the past three weeks and 4 days (to be exact)and it wasn’t like he could change that. Not right now. He was all for bettering yourself as a person and mental and emotional growth but Jesus Christ. Not yet. He had to let himself rest, that’s what Will said anyway. He believed Will.   
“Mark is an awful person!” she was yelling. He didn’t like it when she yelled because it was just before the point where she was seething and she wanted to ring his neck.   
“Just let me for one second-”  
She could shout louder than him when she wanted to. “I’ve been letting you for god knows how many years!” They were both quiet for a moment after this. Tears stung both of their eyes. The room around them was blurred. His head was ringing; it hurt. He wanted to go to sleep; he wanted to talk to Will. Celine began speaking again, her loathing had set in. “He’s a genuine manipulative bastard,” she took a step closer to him. Damien didn’t move. “With a hyper fixation on his image-” he remained staring at her, tears now running down his cheeks again. “And an obsession with being adored!” the last words echoed through the room long after she’d screamed them. 

There was a long silence. He didn’t break eye contact with her and she just stared back at him, pathetic, a mess. She was just trying to help him. He didn’t want her help. His lips were chapped, broken, stinging as each salty tear dripped past them. “Nothing you say,” his voice was shaking. “Is going to make me love him any less.” He spoke through gritted teeth.  
“Damien-”  
“Nothing.” He spat.


	11. Like you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a continuation of the first abe & google drabble i wrote, again a little later on in their relationship

Sometimes, if he was really tired in the mornings, Abe would have his five-minute shower (one Mark could never wrap his head around) and then stand and stare for an indefinite amount of time. Just stare at the condensation on the window or mirror or the water dripping slowly to the floor from his skin. The smell of the shower. Reminisce on the feeling of hot water against his cold skin.

He hadn’t done it in a while, though; he’d forced himself through mornings quickly and got straight to work. Google kept track of everything. Everything. Which is why, he supposed, when he stayed in the bathroom for a longer-than-average amount of time after his shower, Google just walked in.  
“What’s wrong?”

Abe jumped back; he was just lucky he wasn’t someone who was very comfortable in their own skin because he couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be without a towel. “What’s wrong with you?!”  
Google paused, clearly considering this statement. He opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, then spoke. “Nothing. Although the build up of condensation in here isn’t..” he seemed to be googling something. Abe raised his eyebrows. “Working wonders?”   
“I didn’t mean that,” he said shortly, beginning to feel the draft from outside the post-shower bathroom and moved his arms instinctively across his torso.   
Google took a step forward. “You’re cold.” he stated.   
“No shit,” he muttered, averting his eyes to anywhere but Google’s harsh gaze.

They stayed in an odd silence, both seemingly not exactly sure what to do next or, at least, how to go about it. Abe drummed his fingers against the sides of his opposite arm. He felt Google scan him again - obviously. Then he took a step forward and Abe tried to find something to say but it never really came out. Instead he did nothing as Google walked firmly over and wrapped his arms around him.  
“Don’t be cold.”


	12. Don't rush into things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mark breaks the happy news to damien about his and celine's relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this, damien and mark were originally dating, then, after mark broke up with him, he began dating celine

“Listen, Damien,” he hadn’t seen Mark like this since they were dating and he blamed on the suddenness of it all as to why it stung as much as it did. “You know what you always said about relationships? About people?” Damien blinked, raising an eyebrow, unable to judge the exact tone of the conversation. He was good at reading Mark, it was what he always did, always knew, but after their break up a couple of years prior, he never felt certain about anything like he had before, so he gave up trying. Besides, it was Celine’s job now. Mark was in one of his nervous-to-say but giddy-at-the-thought kind of moods, meaning, theoretically, Damien should be happy for him, but he hadn’t yet figured out if he should disapproving or not.   
“Yeah?” he prompted, unreadable in his own tone.  
“Your set of rules?” Damien rolled his eyes at this, a slight smirk playing at his lips. “Your.. ‘Always honesty’, ‘No kissing when ill’, ‘No sex when mad’, ‘Don’t rush into things’-”  
He frowned at the odd mix of his old relationship ‘rules’ Mark had never listened to anyway; what was the point of this conversation? To mock him in a playful, loving yet deeply detrimental way? “Yeah they ring a bell,” he nodded, yet still remaining impassive to the subject.  
“Well, firstly you already broke the last one when you confessed your love for me on the second date but-”  
An uncomfortable, heavy, deep-set weight settled itself on Damien’s chest. He forced a smile. “Hah, well we were young and I-”  
“I know, but I need you not to get all wisdom-y and as if you know more about this than I do okay?”   
“Right..?” he pressed, cautiously.

Mark drew in a deep breath. “I proposed.”  
Out of everything Damien hadn’t been expecting in that moment, that wasn’t even on the list. “Oh-”  
Mark finally met his eyes again, as opposed to shuffling awkwardly and glancing around the room for anything other than Damien. “We’re engaged.” he beamed. Damien hadn’t seen him smile like that for years. He used to be the only one to have ever seen that smile. It was his.   
And so he grinned back at him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “That’s incredible, Mark!” he shut his eyes against the flurry of unnecessary tears. “I’m so happy for you!”

And he was.


	13. Keeping quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> will talks to damien after he and mark broke up

He’d always been quiet, the most quiet out of the three of them at least. Celine was the quietest out the four of them generally, while he was the most mild-mannered- and he was doing it again. 

Damien shut his book between his fingers and placed it next to him on the bed. Drummed on it lightly. Pulled on his lip with his teeth. Tapped his foot against the floor. It had been just over a year now and the pain was over; that was fine. He was fine, really, and happy for Mark and Celine, but every now and then he’d slip into some memory. As if he were writing some stupid autobiography and trying to explain to the voice in his head what happened in his memories. The old ones were always golden. 

Will had turned to him once, about five months prior, looking sad and thoughtful. “You’re quiet.” and Damien had chuckled through his nose and given him a quick smile because it was just during one of his trips down good old memory lane and he’d prefer to be there.  
“Just thinking.”   
“I don’t mean just now, Damien-” and he had started crying and didn’t stop for at least another two hours. Will cried too then, silently, holding him against his chest. He liked to class that moment as something, a milestone, but he could only name it one of many relapses he had when he was certain he was alright. Yet that time seemed different. 

He had turned to Will then, after hours that he didn’t count, pushed himself gently back and pulled his knees to his chin. Rested on them. “None of my words mean anything anymore,” and Will stayed quiet, looking at him with bloodshot eyes and tear lines down his cheeks and Damien was sure he looked back at him the same way. No one else had ever seen Will cry before, maybe he hadn’t before then, and it unlocked a different kind of pain inside of him. He had found out later that night that it was because he felt powerless and it wasn’t Damien’s fault at all. “I used to..” he had trailed off and remained silent for a few minutes before starting. “I used to,” he had begun again, choking back the tears again. “Say I love you everyday, at least. I always wanted to make sure he knew that. To the bitter end.” Will had nodded slowly, quietly; they had had a conversation like this before, early on, straight after the break up, but it hadn’t ended like this. Damien hadn’t told anyone about this before. “And now, if I say that too much, I sound like some clingy ex who just can’t let it go and let pure things be-” he had started crying, hard, but swallowed it all and wiped his face with the backs of his hands. He didn’t need to be crying to say this. He’d thought this since he had the realisation in the second month, but it was always different saying these things out loud. Will had moved to rest his hand delicately over his. “I don’t get to say I love you anymore.”


End file.
